


near wild heaven

by cherryvanilla



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: M/M, Porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-01
Updated: 2010-12-01
Packaged: 2017-10-13 11:44:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/136975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherryvanilla/pseuds/cherryvanilla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur + Eames + a wall.</p>
            </blockquote>





	near wild heaven

Arthur has Eames up against his bedroom wall and is moving inside him in slow, long thrusts. Eames’ cheek is up against the plaster, his breathing shallow and broken. Arthur pulls back enough to watch his cock slide in and out of Eames’ tight ass, pulls out until just the tip is inside. He feels Eames clench around him and watches in near fascination as Eames lets out a growl and reaches blindly for Arthur’s hips to haul him closer.

“You bastard,” groans Eames. “Fuck me, god damn you.” Arthur grins and teases him, thrusting shallowly for a few seconds before slamming back in. Eames’ moans loudly and his thumbs press into Arthur’s hips, guiding him closer, deeper, all while groaning, “fucking Christ, fuck me, Arthur, you—god, do it,” and Arthur’s head is spinning, dizzy with a mixture of power of lust for being able to do break Eames in this manner.

Eames is pulling furiously at his own cock now, and he’s turning his head to mouth at Arthur’s jaw, trying to catch his lips in a kiss and that makes Arthur groan helplessly. He seals and his mouth over Eames’ lips which are even fuller now after they’d spent at least 30 minutes making out against Arthur’s door before Eames had said, “do you have idea how much I want you,” and Arthur, in response, had pressed his full body against him causing them both to shudder. Eames had moaned something about ‘getting to the bed and now’; they made it as far as the wall.

Arthur thrusts his tongue in, claiming Eames’ mouth hard and rough, matching the pace of his own hips and Eames’ hand.

Eames breaks away, breathless, resting his forehead against the wall, his open mouth gasping Arthur’s name in what could be a request or an affirmation. Arthur rests his head against the curve of Eames neck, nipping on slick skin. Eames smells incredible, even when he’s sweating and falling apart; Arthur breathes him in. His rhythm falters as he gets lost in the sensations around him: the heat of Eames’ ass, clenching on every upstroke, the feel of Eames’ thighs brushing his own, the choked moans falling from his lips (because he doesn’t care how loud he is or that everyone in Arthur’s apartment building knows exactly how well and thorough he is being fucked).

“Arthur..” Eames breathes and Arthur knows what’s about to happen but no, not yet --suddenly, he needs more. He pulls out roughly and Eames whimpers in protest. But then he’s turning Eames around so fast and taking his lips hard and desperate, licking his way into his mouth, sucking his tongue until Eames is grasping at Arthur’s back (and yes, that’s what he wants) that Eames stops protesting and just starts moaning and to Arthur they are the hottest sounds he’s ever heard.

“Arthur, what do you..” Eames’ eyes are wild; his cheeks are flushed in soft streetlight flooding through the window and his hair is wet and matted across his forehead.

Arthur puts a finger to Eames’ lips, which he immediately sucks into his mouth. Then he hooks one hand under Eames’ knee, pulling him in close and that’s all Eames needs to get the hint. “Oh, hell,” Eames moans and Arthur watches his body visibly shudder.

Eames places his weight against the wall and Arthur’s lifts him; Eames’ legs immediately wrap around the small of Arthur’s back. When they’re balanced, Arthur wills his hands to stop shaking and pushes back in. They both moan in unison at the new angle. And then Arthur is thrusting into him with renewed vigor, his hair brushing against Eames’ shoulder. And Eames’ hand is scraping against Arthur’s belly between their bodies and Eames’ fingertips are scratching their way up and down the expanse of Arthur’s back, pulling him impossibly closer and he’s saying “baby, so fucking good, so good,” in some kind of mantra like he can’t stop. Arthur’s never been anyone’s ‘baby’ but he can’t bring himself to argue, not when Eames is now moaning, “Come for me, baby, want you to fill me up, god, you, you just,” and there’s only so much Arthur can handle. So he just lifts his head and pants against Eames’ mouth, “you close?”

“Christ, am I,” Eames says, a breathless chuckle.

“Come with me,” Arthur whispers and his fingers convulse against Eames’ ass and then he’s coming, and all he can say is, “Eames, oh, oh,” and then Eames is following him over the edge. Arthur feels his body shudder and Eames’ legs and ass tense around him. Their rhythm is sacrificed to jerky movement and the active goal of not falling. Then Arthur says fuck it, and after a final spasm of pleasure, lets himself slide out of Eames’ slowly and guides them down the wall. Eames is still gasping, and then he’s grabbing Arthur’s shoulders, pulling Arthur on top of him on the floor, until they are lying down, and kissing lazily.

“Bloody hell,” Eames breathes damply against his lips, “who needs a bed?”, laughing a little manically.

Arthur just smiles against his jaw. “Who indeed.”


End file.
